The Suns Heir: A War of Two Kings

Orianna: The Raider King.

The sun had passed overhead a great many times since Orianna and her clansman had arrived on Horden island. Each day her father would return to their camp, weary and looking as if he had fought in a great battle. Though he did not sing of any triumphs, nor did he regale her with news of defeat.

Radyn had been tightly lipped since the first meeting, all the chiefs had. They would come together at dawn and lock themselves in the keep. Orianna had tried to join her father on numerous occasions, only to be brushed aside and told to see to the men. She and Radyn had never had secrets between them. Orianna was his heir, he had prided himself in teaching her to lead. Yet here she was amongst all the clans at the greatest summit ever held and she was left out in the cold, treated as if she were a common soldier...

It hadn't taken the young Reyne long to get her bearings. Her father had asked her to watch the men, ensure their safety and so she did. She took to the woods, climbed trees and scoped out the island. She had to be ready for anything, the clans weren't known for their hospitality. These people fought over grain, iron and other trinkets. Orianna had no doubts it wouldn't be long before iron clashed with iron. Twelve clans on one island, it was a disaster waiting to happen. Volatile was the word that came to mind when Orianna looked out onto the field of tents. For now, the clans were sharing ale and wine brought by the Sunbarrow lord, but for how long would they continue to do so?

Orianna was by the water, watching a Horden clans-boy fish. He was so determined. A little boy, no more than eight plunging a spear into the water. His boyish giggle would lighten the air around her every moment or so, and even though he had yet to catch a fish he would laugh at his every failure, if that had been her, she would have screamed. Unleashed her fury onto the water, stabbing fish after fish. Not this boy, he didn't do that. He would take a moment after his failure, laugh and then try again. He had been trying for near on ten minutes and not caught a single fish. She wanted to ask him why he did not join his clansmen and eat the food brought by the mainlander, but she believed herself to have already come to an answer. The boy wanted to feed himself, to prove his worth and his strength. It was a desire she had known all too well. As a woman, she had fought harder, trained more than almost any man in her clan. If she was to lead them, she would have to be better than them, worthy of the honour of being their chiefess. She wondered who the little boy was bettering himself for, his mother, his father or his chief...

Orianna had become so lost in thought, she had not released the eyes on her, the boy's eyes. Nor had she heard the songs of iron and cries of death coming from the keep. It was only when the child had taken flight she was pulled back to the present.

"Wait." She called after him, stumbling through the sand as she gave chase.

The boy was fast, like the fish he had been trying to catch.

The clash of sword against sword, the clambering of shield against shield had grown closer, but Orianna did not care for it. Her focus was on the little boy running toward the fray. The little boy gripping his spear and charging, as if he was himself a horde of ten men.

Reaching out as she drew closer Orianna stumbled, she had missed the boy. He was indeed the fish and she the floundering spear.

"Stop." She cried out once more, only to be ignored. The boy was still running, only now the sounds of combat had become more than a song, it was an image, a moving painting filling her eyes.

Orianna drew her sword all the while still running, still chasing. Until a mailed warrior brought her to a stop.

The warrior lunged at her with his sword, only to be met with a raised blade that easily parried the attack. The man attacked again striking from overhead, as he did Orianna stuck him, she had drawn her dagger and jabbed it through his mail.